When he exhorted me to be thrifty and careful,
So as to live in content on what he’d leave me:
He’d say: ‘Don’t you see how badly young Albius
Is doing, how poor Baius is? A clear warning: don’t
Wilfully squander your birthright.’ Or steering me
From base love of a whore: ‘Don’t take after Scetanus.’
Or from chasing an adulteress where I might enjoy
Free sex: ‘Not nice, Trebonius’ name now he’s caught:
Some wise man can tell you why it’s better to seek
Or avoid something: it’s enough for me that I follow
The code our ancestors handed down, and while you
Need a guardian I’ll keep your reputation and health
From harm: then when age has strengthened your body
And mind, you can swim free of the float.’ With words
Such as these he formed the child, whether urging me on
If I acted, with ‘You’ve an authority for doing this,’
Pointing to one of the judges the praetor had chosen:
Or forbidding it, with ‘Can you really be doubtful
Whether it’s wrong or harmful, when scandal’s ablaze
About that man and this?’ As a neighbour’s funeral scares
The sick glutton, and makes him diet, fearful of dying,
So tender spirits are often deterred from doing wrong
By others’ shame. That’s why I’m free of whatever vices
Bring ruin, though I’m guilty of lesser failings, ones
You might pardon. Perhaps growing older will largely
Erase even these, or honest friends, or self-reflection:
Since when my armchair welcomes me, or a stroll
In the portico, alert to myself: ‘It’s more honest,’
I’ll say, ‘if I do that my life will be better: that way I’ll
Make good friends: what he did wasn’t nice: could I ever
Unthinkingly do something similar one day?’ So
I advise myself with my lips tight closed: and when I’m free
I toy with my writings. It’s one of the minor failings
I mentioned: and if it’s something you can’t accept,
A vast crowd of poets will flock to my aid (for we
Are by far the majority), and just as the Jews do
In Rome, we’ll force you to join our congregation!